So I have spent this crisp early afternoon reflecting on life; all together not a good thing. I was my happiest as a child. No responsibility, no money, no pressure. The sum of my days spent enjoying God's creations in nature; to understand the deepness of the clear blue skies, to find dandelions and appreciate their beauty, to watch birds flocking from tree to tree, to wonder wide eyed. It has been difficult for me to adjust in the adult world. I guess I am still a child in my heart. Maryna sometimes says that I have a "simple goodness" about me. This is why: I don't care about race, religion, politics, money, work....and I never really have. Oh sure, there were times when I struggled to fit into to the image of what I was "supposed" to be, but those days were spurious and scarce.
I sit here thinking now what? I obviously can't be successful under the circumstances I have found myself. Yet the pressure of these circumstances is preventing me from moving beyond them. For example I have been applying to Graduate Schools for a while now, however, it is more than a struggle to get every thing together in time for the deadlines, the application fees, the letters of reference, and other adult necessities.
There is a man that works in Dr. Paprzycki's lab -- he is responsible for my black mood today. He knows exactly shit about computer science, and yet he has three scholarships, and his "research" is fully funded by the government. I put research in quotes, because he doesn't have any research. Yesterday he was learning how to install linux. Fuck, we should be supporting about a million 14 year old high schoolers if installing linux is worthy of NSF funding. The sick thing is he was working on a machine that had a perfectly beautiful installation of SUSE 8.1 on it. I mean this was a sweet linux box. I offered the root password to him, but he thought it would be better if he reinstalled using Redhat 8.0. I sit here thinking "What the fuck?" Of course Redhat is the first linux that most everyone learns, but to bastardize such a work of art must be a crime.
I think my failure is in life is due mostly to two things. One, my parents never pushed me. Two, I have always been good at everything I do. Now you must be thinking How is this a problem? My parents were fabulous parents, and I am certainly not blaming them for my problems. My childhood was great, but when I needed guidance the most there was none. This isn't exactly their fault, I wasn't exactly running up to them seeking guidance. I was quite the arrogant little teenage bastard, full of pride, and so sarcastic that it would be difficult to have a conversion with me. As for being good at everything, most people would think that it was a blessing, but it isn't exactly. You see, I have problems focusing. I was so widely spread during my adolescence that I never really developed a passion for anything in particular. The things that I did love doing were eventually taken away from me due to circumstances beyond my control at the time. I enjoy life and everything in life. Now, I have a good job. I have a nice car. I have a great girlfriend. I have it all. And yet I struggle with the simplest things in life. Meaning, happiness, direction.
I can't finish anything I do. When I start something new, I am filled with joy and fiery passion, blazing toward some grandiose goal. Then circumstances interrupt this flow, and I just loose all desire to ANYTHING. I just feel so hopeless and desperate. It seems as reasonable to just cease than to continue with the struggle. I think that I am out of energy, that I am burned out again. I think I have been burned out with playing by everyone's ridiculous rules since high school, it must have been my youthful exuberance that carried me through. Now that exuberance has faded.
